


Prayers

by Fangirl0207



Category: One Piece
Genre: Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Thriller Bark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-15 21:07:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14797964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fangirl0207/pseuds/Fangirl0207
Summary: “Oi, cook,” he tried, he really tried, to sound calm. “You alive?” he reached out, brushed the blood-stained blonde hair out of Sanji’s face, only to be further assaulted by the sight of more blood smeared all over Sanji’s face. His eyes were barely opened, lifeless, as if he was dead already.“Cook!” he barked out in terror before he even realized what he was doing.Sanji took the bullet during Thriller Bark, and Zoro found himself praying.





	Prayers

Zoro opened his eyes to the sight of Chopper and Robin worriedly looking down on him. They called out his name, tried to get him to focus, and asked him if he was in any form of pain. For a moment, Zoro couldn’t think straight, couldn’t remember where he was, what he was doing before he passed out, and what made him passed out in the first place, so his brain decided to focus on answering their questions, mostly by telling them that he was fine and nothing hurt except for his head. Fuck, his head hurt like a bitch, like someone just took a fucking axe and…

Abruptly, Zoro sat up, and his eyes widened as he frantically looked about, because he remembered now, it hadn’t been an axe which knocked him out. He ignored his throbbing head, ignored Chopper’s scolding, ignored everyone as he shouted, “The cook! Where’s the cook?!” he looked about, but it was clear that nobody had an answer.

“We haven’t found him,” Nami replied.

But before Nami could even finish talking, Zoro was up on his feet, and was already dashing away. He repeatedly cursed in his mind and prayed to a god who wasn’t listening to please, please, _please let the shitty cook be okay_. It was his fault, all his goddamn fault. He shouldn’t have turned his back on the cook, he shouldn’t have trusted the cook to stay back even as the stupid cook showed sign of backing off, he should have knocked him out for good measure. Why didn’t he do that? Why did he turned his back on Sanji? Why did he foolishly think that Sanji would listen to him?

His heart hammered in his chest, each beat unbearably painful, it was fear that gripped him like a vise, cruel and merciless. He ran and he ran, all the while calling out for the shitty cook by his various nicknames. No reply came. Each passing minute only served to torture him more.

After what felt like forever, he finally ran into an isolated corner of the island, concealed behind a mound of rocks, a darker, quieter place which anyone would have missed if they weren’t looking for anything in particular. Zoro stood atop the mound of rocks, and looking down, he was nonetheless horrified by the sight laid out before him.

Sanji was there, lying on the ground, and there was blood, blood, _blood_ every _fucking_ where, and they all couldn’t be Sanji’s blood, right? Zoro felt ice stabbing through his heart and lungs as a cold voice whispered, _of course it’s all his blood, there’s no one else around._ But then… If that was the case… Then… The cook… Sanji…

Zoro felt the strength drained out of him, felt his knees wobbled, felt his lungs stopped, felt the world spun dangerously around him. The only thing that kept him standing was the sliver of hope that Sanji was still alive. Numbly, he trod down the slope and approached Sanji. His boots stepped on the blood-covered stones as he came closer, the sound it made wet and disgusting. Zoro had to remind himself to be strong.

He bent down, reached out with trembling hands, placed a hand on Sanji’s neck in search of a pulse. A moment, then two, and then he felt it, dangerously faint, but it was there. He shakily let out the breath which he had been holding.

“Oi, cook,” he tried, he _really_ tried, to sound calm. “You alive?” he reached out, brushed the blood-stained blonde hair out of Sanji’s face, only to be further assaulted by the sight of more blood smeared all over Sanji’s face. His eyes were barely opened, lifeless, _as if he was dead already._

“Cook!” he barked out in terror before he even realized what he was doing.

Slowly, those lifeless eyes turned to look at him, and with an apparent difficulty, Sanji rasped out, “I’m… Alright...” his voice was soft and weak, and if Zoro didn’t see his lips moving, he would’ve thought that he was imagining those words.

Zoro felt anger rose in his chest, and he wanted to yell, wanted to scream at Sanji for being so stubborn – for _lying_ – even in this dire moment, but then he realized that if Sanji were to say anything other than those words, Zoro would have despaired instead. So he let that stupidity slide, just for this once, and said, “I’m going to get Chopper, don’t fucking die on me now, you hear me cook?”

This time, Sanji didn’t respond, and not wanting to waste another precious moment, Zoro ran back to the others to get Chopper. Thankfully, he didn’t have to go far, because just as he reached the top of the rocky mounds, he saw Chopper, Nami, and Robin already making their way up, matching grim looks on their faces. Zoro barked at the to hurry up, and when they reached the top of the mound, they sharply inhaled at the sight before them.

“H-H-H-How…?” Nami could barely form words as she fell on her knees, “S-S-Sanji… How?”

Robin covered her mouth and she had paled considerably, “Cook-san...”

Chopper, despite all his young age and sometimes childish behavior, was the calmest of them all. He rushed down to Sanji side and began unloading his medical kit. Zoro hovered by Chopper’s side, ready to provide aid, ready to do anything Chopper told him to just to make sure this stupid cook lives to see another day, all the while praying to a god he didn’t even believe in to please, please, _please, let this stupid cook live_.

Zoro wasn’t sure if his prayers would be heard.

<<<

Sanji’s condition was delicate. He was teetering on that fine border between life and death, and even though Chopper did his best to treat Sanji, his tone was grim as he explained the likely chance of several organ failures in the next couple of days. Somehow, it sounded as if Chopper wasn’t sure that Sanji could make it. Zoro wanted to tell Chopper to drop that shit, wanted Chopper to see that there was no way the shitty cook was going to die because of some goddamn organ failure, but he didn’t say it out loud, because he knew that the moment he opened his mouth, his voice would betray him, and everyone would know how much he _feared_. And so, he kept his mouth shut, and instead, he prayed; he prayed again to those fictional almighty beings, he begged them to please, please, _please don’t let anything happen to him._

The crew members took turn watching over Sanji during the day, each spending two hours in the room, but when night fell, it was only Zoro and Brook who took turns watching over him. Everyone entered the room with some degree of apprehension etched on their face – because there was a chance that Sanji’s organs would declare mutiny during their shift, and nobody wanted to witness one of their strongest nakama slipping away like that – and walked out looking relieved and marginally more optimistic that Sanji would survive. The one who seemed to be taking it well was Brook, but it was hard to guess what he was thinking since he didn’t have any quirks, eyes, or facial muscles to give anything away.

During his shift, Zoro spent six hours sitting on the hard stool in the corner, eyes never leaving the figure swaddled in bandage from head to toes. He tried to keep his mind carefully blank, tried not to think too much about what would happen if he had knocked out Sanji instead, tried not to blame himself for all this, but it was goddamn near impossible, because this… This was obviously his fault.

Zoro liked to think that everyone on this ship filled in a particular role that the others could not simply replace. Luffy is their captain, Nami is their navigator, Chopper their doctor… Everyone has a role, and Zoro’s role is that of a protector, guarding Luffy and all his nakama. It was a role that he had assumed with pride, because it gave his swords and all his training another purpose aside from striving to be the best swordsman in the world. After a particularly nasty adventure, when everyone was hurt and Chopper was patching them up, Zoro liked to secretly smile to himself as he noticed that everyone was present and still alive, it felt like another job well done. But this… This incident with Sanji made him feel like he had failed his duty, failed his crew mates, failed Luffy. He had one job, only one job, and that is to protect his nakama, and he screwed it up. Why hadn’t Luffy beat the shit out of him and threw him off the ship?

In the darkness of the night, with only the sound of the heart monitor beeping steadily, Zoro found himself at ease enough to voice out his thoughts, “Shitty cook… This is what you get for taking over my duty. Next time, just stick to the kitchen.”

No reply, not that he was expecting any.

“Stop trying to be so chivalrous… It’s annoying. I get that you want to impress Nami and Robin, but your self-sacrificing tendency is getting you nowhere with them. They all think you’re a pervert.”

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Zoro let his head falls as he chuckled to himself, “I like it better when you can kick me for saying shits like that… Curly brows.”

And Zoro did it again, this time, less fervently than before; he tipped his chin upwards, and silently prayed to those who watched over them from above to please, please, _please, let this shit cook wake up soon._ Zoro didn’t know why he keeps doing it; praying to a god who didn’t exist.

<<<

Zoro was napping that afternoon when he heard a ruckus coming from the infirmary. Before he even realized what he was doing, he had jumped onto his feet, and was running to the infirmary with panic in his chest. As he ran, all he could think of was Sanji dying, and once again, he begged harder than he had ever before to whoever it was who listened to his prayers to please, please, _please, don’t take him away from us._

When he reached the infirmary, he saw Luffy standing by Sanji’s bed side, rubbery arms wrapped around that slender body, all the while bawling about how he missed Sanji’s food. Zoro wanted to yell at Luffy to put him down – _what are you doing?!_ _Y_ _ou could be hurting him!_ \- but then he saw Sanji’s blue eyes on him, and he instantly felt relief coursing through his veins.

Chopper came rushing right after Zoro. He quickly scolded Luffy for manhandling Sanji like that, and went about to perform checkups. Sanji was heavily drugged, but he answered Chopper satisfactorily, and when Chopper was done and told them all that Sanji would be okay – _he’s doing more than okay, he’s recovering a lot faster than expected_ – Sanji closed his eyes, and went back to sleep.

Zoro didn’t believe in gods, but as he watched the peaceful look on Sanji’s face with the knowledge that he was going to be okay, Zoro thanked whatever divine powers out there who had listened to his prayers.

<<<

That night during Zoro’s shift, Sanji woke up again, and this time, Sanji had enough energy to stop Zoro from calling Chopper right away.

“How’s everyone?” Sanji asked first of all, his voice still somewhat raspy and weak.

“They’re all fine, you’re the only one who got it bad, shit cook,” Zoro replied.

“Thank goodness,” Sanji smirked.

“You should’ve stayed back,” Zoro couldn’t stop himself from bringing up that topic right there and then, because he had been stewing in it for days, and he needed to let it out, damnit! “it wasn’t your job.”

Sanji looked at him, blue eyes bright even in the darkness of the room, “The fuck you’re talking about? Protecting the captain… It’s as much my job as it is yours.”

“It’s more of my job than it is yours,” Zoro retorted, and before Sanji could argue, he continued, “I’m stronger, shit cook, and no, you don’t get to tell me otherwise. I spend hours everyday training to be stronger and stronger, you spend your day in the kitchen cooking. I could’ve taken the hit better.”

Anger flashed through those brilliant eyes, and for a moment, Zoro thought that Sanji would leap out of the bed and kicked him for that, but that flash disappeared as quickly as it came, and Sanji turned his gaze to the ceiling instead. He knew Zoro was right, he was just too damned stubborn to admit it. But Zoro wanted to hear him admit it, wanted to make sure this would never happen again, so he let the silence stretched, gave Sanji time to put down his pride for a second, and admit that he was wrong.

“I’m sorry...” Sanji murmured, and that was that.

Zoro couldn’t ask for more. “I’ll get Chopper.” and he was about to get up from the stool and walked away, before he felt Sanji’s weak grip around his wrist. He stopped, and returned his gaze to the blonde lying on the bed.

Sanji looked at him with an unreadable expression on his face, “I...” he hesitated, “Did you… Did you pray for me?”

Zoro didn’t know why Sanji brought that up, but he slowly nodded, “It was the only thing I can do...” he softly admitted.

Sanji regarded him for a while, before saying, “I heard your prayers… All of it. Thank you.” and then he let go of Zoro’s wrist, and closed his eyes again, pretending as if he didn’t just dropped a freaky statement on Zoro.

And Zoro didn’t know what to make of that, but after a moment of staring at Sanji and trying to figure out what just happened to no avail, he decided that it didn’t matter. Sanji was alive, and that was all that mattered. And because he was feeling courteous, he said to the shit cook, “No, thank you, for answering my prayers.” and without another word, he went to go get Chopper.  



End file.
